And So Begins Another Day
by OpalWings
Summary: It's just a normal night in feudal Japan until a series of events brings Sango and Miroku a little closer together...and causes them to wake up in a rather compromising position! Written from Sango's POV.


**And So Begins Another Day**  
~*~  
By Jessica Lynn S. (escaflowne@opalwings.com)  
~*~

**Spoilers**: Umm...none, at least nothing major, as long as you've already met Miroku and Sango. ^_^ If you haven't, this story won't make much sense anyway. 

**Warnings**: Hmm...no major warnings for a change either. A little bit of perversion maybe, but a lot less than you'd expect from a certain monk. 

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Inuyasha, or your grandma, or your grandma's pants. No profit is being generated...bla bla bla...pants. 

**Summary**: It's just a normal night in feudal Japan until a series of events brings Sango and Miroku a little closer together...and cause them to wake up in a rather compromising position! Written from Sango's POV. 

**AN**: My first shot at writing Inuyasha fiction. This isn't a get-together fic so much as a "cute moment that could have happened in the context of the story" fic. Because I watch the series in Japanese, I've used some Japanese terminology. For example, Sango calls Miroku "Houshi-sama." (Which means Buddhist monk/priest.) Yokai are demons, etc. Enjoy. 

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I am having trouble sleeping tonight. I feel myself fading out of consciousness from time-to-time as I stare at the wall, but something always brings me back; whether it be the faintest rustle of the leaves outside or the snores of my comrades. There was no battle today to exhaust me. I fill my mind with trivial thoughts to keep larger fears and uncertainties at bay. We're staying at the best inn this small town has to offer; courtesy of the monk, as usual. It's more comfortable than the fireside campsites we've grown accustomed to pitching in the forest. But the weather has been cold and damp as of recent and these walls offer little more comfort than our fires. 

No one else seems to be feeling the cold much. Shippou-chan is curled up with Kirara. His little fox-nose whistles when he inhales. Kagome-chan and Houshi-sama are silent and still, and I don't think the cold is even an issue for Inuyasha, who sleeps sitting up; guarding the doorway. He's an irritable creature, but he's probably the strongest among us. If a yokai came in to the room at this moment, it would have him to contend with. In times when we never know when our next battle will be, that is a comfort, however small. 

Someone's breath breaks abruptly away from the patterns that have been established, coming in sudden and ragged gasps. This causes me to startle. Apparently, Inuyasha has noticed too. He opens one yellow eye and glances around the room, then closes it again, unconcerned. As I sit up and look around, the reason for his lack of concern is apparent; the monk is the one who is breathing heavily. Hmmph. I have no desire to know what he's dreaming about. I lay back down, facing away from my companions. I hear the rustling of covers and a sound which is a crossbreed between a whimper and a moan. Houshi-sama must be having quite a dream. I'm tempted to throw something at him. 

His vocalizations continue, and I grope blindly at the floor beside me in search of something to whip at his head. I find one of Kagome's sneakers, return to my sitting position, and take aim at his dark sillouhette; but something causes me to pause. A sliver of moonlight from the window illuminates his face as he tosses about, revealing his expression. His features are contorted with terror, rather than pleasure. He parts his lips to whimper again, but his breath catches in his throat. He's shivering violently now, and I wonder if I should wake him. 

Nothing good would come of it for me. He might see it as an opportunity to cop a feel of my rear end, as he's done so many times. If he's having a nightmare, it's his own damn problem, I affirm to myself. But I'm not heartless, and I can't stand to see my companions suffer. A war between good sense and maternal instinct rages inside of me for about half a second before my maternal instincts win and take over. Some day, I think, those instincts may be the death of me. I sigh defeatedly and crawl across the room on my hands and knees, trying to make as little sound as possible. 

"Houshi-sama?" I ask in a whisper, placing my hand on his shoulder as softly as I can. I don't want to startle him. At this closer proximity I can see that his forehead is beaded with sweat, despite the chilling air. He tenses, and I shake him gently. "Houshi-sama?" I ask again, "Are you all right?" His eyes flicker open and I quickly slide out of his reach to avoid any unpleasant surprises. He sits up, staring wide-eyed at his right hand, and I'm not entirely sure he knows where he is. It's obvious what he was dreaming about, though. 

In our day-to-day adventures and struggles, it is easy to forget things; especially things which are painful. On a normal day, when every muscle of my body aches from battle, it is easy to put Kohaku from my mind. And likewise, I've almost forgotten that - unless we defeat Naraku - Houshi-sama's kazaana will eventually devour him. The harsh and unspoken truths of his existence seem to have caught up with him in this silence, too. 

Impulsively, I rest my head on his shoulder, wrapping one arm around him to cup his cursed right hand in my own. I lay my left hand over top of it, enfolding it protectively. His palm is cold and sweaty. "Sango?" he whispers questioningly as the awareness returns to his eyes. I nod my head against him. He entwines his fingers with mine, squeezing gently in a grateful gesture. I am grateful too, for there are far worse things that he could have decided to squeeze. "I'm sorry for troubling you." he says softly. "Did I wake you?" 

"Don't worry about it." I answer. "I was awake to begin with." As I feel the prayer beads that seal away his curse pressing in to my palm, it strikes me how alike we are. The anguish of the only family I have left being used as a pawn against me is great and it threatens to consume me whole; not unlike the air void in his hand. But I cannot say that I am alone. Kagome-chan, Shippou-chan, Houshi-sama, and even Inuyasha; they are my family now. They all look out for me in their own ways, and care about me despite the roughness of our initial meeting. The tragedies which have befallen us all are what brought us together. Now, the camaraderie that we share is the only thing that keeps me from slipping in to insanity, much like the beads wrapped around the monk's hand. 

An image pops in to my mind's eye without my consent. I imagine a series of round little beads, each one shaped like one of my friends, and I cannot help but smile a little bit. I would give my life for any of them, even the blasted hanyou. 

My hands and Houshi-sama's are still locked together. I could have released his at any time, but I don't want to be the first to let go and forsake the nearly-forgotten comfort of human contact. Apparently, neither does he. I think he needs it right now. We sit in silence and I feel the heat of a blush rise in my cheeks. I'm glad that he can't see it. Finally I speak up. "Umm...do you want to talk about it?" I ask softly. 

"What can I really say?" he asks me. "We both know the truth." It scares me that he's being so serious; that he's forcing himself to be so brave. Maybe he's forcing himself more, though, when he smiles like he hasn't a care in the world and propositions all of the beautiful women. Maybe he needs a moment of pessimism like this to say sane, but it breaks my heart. I can't stand to see him accepting that he will probably die while he is still in his youth, because I don't want to accept it. I don't ever want to see it happen! I can't forgive Naraku to begin with. This compounds my hatred for the demon even further. 

"No, it's not the truth!" I say with conviction that I didn't even know I had within me; conviction that I can single-handedly stop the inevitable and defy every law of the universe. "We'll kill Naraku before it can happen. You're not going to die, we're not going to let you. _I'm_ not going to let you!" 

"You are truly kind, Sango; but please understand that if my fate is to be consumed by this, you cannot stop it.." His voice is so calm. He the collective of our hands inward to rest on his chest. 

"But I'll try my damnedest!" I insist, not quite so calmly. He gives a small nod in acknowledgment. 

"I'll try my best too; for your brother, that is." he says gently. He treads carefully with his words, trying not to re-open any psychological wounds. He doesn't know that they never closed to begin with. I can feel his heart, as it slows from a frenzied and fearful pace to one which is slow and rhythmic. It dawns upon me that we have been almost unbearably close for several minutes now, but not once has he tried to grope me. I think he's setting a new record for himself. This closeness is starting to feel comfortable. He's warm in comparison to the room around us. I don't want to let go, and I feel incredibly weak. It's a weakness in which I cannot blame on maternal instinct, for the balance is reversed as he slowly turns and shifts so that I am lying in his arms like a child. My head rests against his chest and he wraps his arms around me. I feel utterly helpless. I should not be allowing anyone to hold me like this. 

"Forgive me, Sango." he says, "You seemed cold." I nod in acknowledgement. I cannot find it within me to protest against his embrace. The thought that I should pull away and return to my own bedroll echoes repetitively in my mind, but I slowly cease to listen to it. It continues, but it seems remote and far away, like the crashing of waves. Much more near and real is the rise and fall of his chest, every breath perfectly even. He rests his chin on the top of my head, and when he exhales it rustles through my hair. I feel as if I've found an oasis. My eyelids become heavy and my common sense makes it's last stand, telling me not to fall asleep with him. I don't know what he might do once I loose conciousness, but my heart wants to trust him. Conciousness slips away, and I am afloat on a peaceful and dreamless sea. 

It is mid-morning before I open my eyes again. My first thought when I see the monk asleep beside me is "What the hell did I just do?" I panic temporarily, until I remember the events of the previous night. I am definitely going back to my own piece of floor now, before someone else awakens and thinks the worst. I hesitate as I start to get up, and look at Houshi-sama's sleeping face. His features look so innocent; so genuine, like the side he showed me last night rather from the mildly corrupt and lecherous monk I thought I knew so well. His eyes blink open and he smiles broadly. 

"Sango, have you been watching me?" he asks. I'm caught, and the sense of panic returns. I shake my head "no" rapidly, but I cannot contain the blush that washes over me. There is no darkness to hide it this time. I start to get up, but my feet catch in the blankets. My ankle twists painfully and I stumble. Houshi-sama catches me, and groans in discomfort as I land awkwardly on top of him. I think my elbow has speared him in a rather delicate spot, and the painful expression on his face confirms it. Things could not possibly get any worse than this. 

"Hmmph!" says another voice, which causes my heart to pound in my throat. I look over at Shippou and Kagome. They're still sleeping...thank god. My eyes move hesitantly across the room. I look up at Inuyasha, who I realize that - to my horror - is wide-awake and looking at Houshi-sama and I with a shocked expression. I was wrong. It's gotten much, much worse. 

"It's not what it looks like!" I exclaim in quiet panic. I want to run off in to the woods and never come back. 

Inuyasha seems unswayed by my feeble protest. "You two disgust me." he says. "I'm never sleeping in the same room with you again." 

Recovering from his recently-inflicted injury, the monk surprisingly comes to my aid. "Don't be jealous, my friend." he says to Inuyasha. "If you would act a bit more pleasant and considerate, maybe you'd wake up to Kagome on top of you." 

Inuyasha is caught off-guard by that remark, and looks thoroughly embarrassed. He growls and leaps to his feet, scampering indignantly out the door. The tension of the moment is broken, and I cover my mouth to stifle the fit of giggles that erupts forth. Houshi-sama meets my eyes and smiles. My own smile quickly diminishes as I feel a hand cup around my backside. My hand connects with the monk's face in seconds. He removes his hand from my person to rub at the fresh red mark I've left on his cheek, peering at me with dazed eyes. And so begins another day. 

***

**AN:** Now that the madness is through, I'd like to recommend a good, long Inuyasha fic: "Where Lost Souls Meet Again" by my good friend starhealer. If you're in a reading mood, pay her a visit and bug her to write the next chapter. ^_^ 

The best quote ever, from a bad subtitling job: "How dare you lop my Malaria!" - Naraku 


End file.
